


Thick and Thin

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [20]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys In Love, Chronic Pain, Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Short & Sweet, Somebody give the Cloak its own tag already!, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 10:12:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16060964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: Some days Stephen wakes up and the chronic pain in his hands is unbearable, luckily he doesn't have to deal with it alone.*Mind the tags please.





	Thick and Thin

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [【授翻/奇异铁】Thick and Thin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17450549) by [Clover_cherik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clover_cherik/pseuds/Clover_cherik)



> I don't pretend to know anything about what it is like to suffer from chronic pain, I hope not to offend anyone with how Stephen handles it. Please enjoy!

   Today was decidedly a bad day. Stephen had known it the moment he woke, hands resting oh so gently on his stomach wrapped in the Cloak. They ached in a way he hadn’t felt in months, deep and throbbing with the promise of more should he move. Stephen laid there starring up at the ceiling, trying desperately to conjure the will to get up, begin his studies for the day. He didn’t want to, but he also knew that if he allowed himself to remain in bed he wouldn’t leave for the rest of the day. Emotion pricked the back of his throat, his mind utterly unwilling to accommodate him this morning, he was just so tired of the pain.

   He knew why it was worse of course. Yesterday had been gruelling, training students all morning, an unfortunate battle with what could only be described as a sea creature in the afternoon, and finally his usual lessons to unravel the mysteries of the Time Stone. He had overworked his hands, they had been sore last night, but now the deep throb was enough to make him regret every extra second of practice.

   There was sudden quiet _ding_ to his left, he glanced at the nightstand realizing it was his phone. He starred hatefully at it, as several littler _dings_ lit up the screen. It always blew his mind how Tony seemed to have some natural instinct concerning when Stephen had woken up. The Cloak unwound from where it had been keeping his hands immobile in the night and brought his phone over to him. Stephen had hoped for a distraction from the aching pain only to find Tony was texting him from a meeting where he was apparently supremely bored and looking for a distraction. Usually Stephen found his irresponsible behaviour quite amusing, but not today. There was no way his hands could stand the tapping of texting, and although there were many alternatives his mood was far to dark to bother.

   With a groan Stephen swung himself out of the bed in one quick movement, unfurling his long fingers in the process and wincing. _Its all in your head_ , he tried to remind himself, already knowing it wouldn’t work. There was one solution that Stephen had turned to on days this bad, when it wasn’t only his hands aching, but his mind acting up with memories of his old life, his soul twisting with a horrible kind of hopelessness. Meditation was still the most important tool he had learned at Kamar-Taj, he was able to disassociate for awhile, get his head on straight, sometimes even embrace the pain, others just put it into perspective. If he could just get through his studies quickly this morning, he could spend the rest in that calming haze.

   A loud knock sounded from the door, and Stephen wanted to yell at Wong to leave him the hell alone. Thankfully the Cloak could be supremely helpful on days like this, and it flew to the door, opening it in a fluid motion. A moment later Wong stepped into the room, his usual frown plastered to his lips as he took Stephen in.

   “Its bad today?”

   Stephen rolled his eyes, “No its just peachy, not like I want to cut my hands off at all.”

   “Hm hm, bitchy means bad. Forget the studies today, I’ll prepare the tea and you can begin your meditation.” Wong left without another word and Stephen just glared.

 

   Not twenty minutes later Stephen was dressed, infinitely grateful for his magic and Cloak giving him a hand, even if the runes he drew made pain spring through every joint. He sat in a comfortable chair next to the large spherical window, as Wong came up the stairs holding a small cup of tea in his hands. It was an old recipe that he still wasn’t allowed to know, and it would allow him to reach a deeper level of meditation. Wong set it on the side table and went to pick up the books they had planned on using for their studies today.

   “Wong, I can still look through those first.” It sounded weak even to his own ears.

   The other man glared at him, holding them almost reverently, “They will sit in the library until you are able to resume studies. It is more dangerous, Strange, to use the books while you are unable to focus. Your mind needs to be in the right place when you take in this knowledge. Know your limitations.”

   Stephen frowned, familiar irritation sweeping through him, “I don’t need to be lectured, I’ve proven myself plenty in the past year!”

   Wong shook his head and promptly made a portal back to the library, “I’ll be back around lunch time, we both know you forget to eat when you meditate.” He stepped through and right before it closed Stephen swear he head the man mutter, “ _bloody arrogant_ -”

   Stephen chose to ignore it, instead stretching out his fingers slightly, moving them in and out slowly. Trying to get the trembling to settle a little so he would be able to drink the tea without making a mess. There was a quiet _swoosh_ sound behind him and Stephen turned to find the Cloak hovering, something gripped in its corners.

   It turned out to be his phone, screen lit up with nearly a dozen unanswered texts. The Cloak held it up in silent offering, clearly trying to get him either to answer or leave a message of some sort. As Stephen took it in his hand, the cool metal added an extra bite to his fingers and a cold unease swept through him, a sudden and undeniable to urge to chuck the damn thing down the stairs and pretend the world didn’t exist.

   It wouldn’t be fair of course. Tony and he spoke on a daily basis, usually early in the morning before the day would get started properly, sometimes late at night with either of them couldn’t sleep. Even more likely as of late Tony might come up with a random idea of a restaurant or park that he wanted to see, and they would find themselves talking face to face. It was nice, and Stephen almost never denied him, enjoying the way their relationship was unfolding as naturally as Spring. The man’s nearly constant attention often made Stephen feel wonderful, loved, appreciated, had brightened his days and made his nights bearable.

   Still, there was this horrible little voice inside his head whispering now, taking advantage of his darkened mind telling him that it was only because he didn’t know what kind of person Stephen really was, or used to be. If Stephen was honest with himself, he very much doubted the possible longevity of their relationship, they were both too big-headed, stubborn, combative. He was still surprised, even now, that Tony had wanted to try this out between them at all. Stephen let out a quiet sigh, utterly unable to deal with anyone today, least of all Tony.

   Without ceremony Stephen tossed the phone down the stairs like he had wanted and felt a rise of satisfaction as it busted, pieces flying apart. The Cloak turned to the stairs, then back to him, tilting slightly in obvious disapproval. Stephen shrugged, “I couldn’t keep it up here, the buzzing will mess up my mediation.”

   The Cloak still didn’t seem happy, so Stephen ignored him, swiping up the tea in one quick movement, downing it like a shot so the trembling wouldn’t give the liquid the chance to slosh around. Soon enough the Cloak wrapped around his shoulders and he lifted into the air, settling comfortably with his sore hands resting on his knees.

 

   What turned out to be five hours later, Stephen was pulled harshly from his meditation when his senses took in a presence entering the Sanctuary. It felt almost violent the way he snapped back into himself, the blissful nothingness giving way to the deep ache again, his whole mind centering on his hands where they sat pale. As the Cloak lowered him down, he felt utterly incapable of defending the Sanctuary, should he need to, but whoever was here didn’t need to know that.

   Just as Stephen made his way to the staircase a familiar voice called out. “Stephen?” Tony, he was no little surprised by the spark of eagerness that went through him, even as his back stiffened in irritation. God he was not making sense today.

   “Up here.” He called, even though a small, petty part of him wished to just hide away.

   Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Stephen went ahead and sat back down in the comfortable chair, starring mournfully at the empty tea. A glance at an old clock across the way revealed it was nearly noon, which meant further interruption by Wong. A moment later Tony appeared at the top of the stairs dressed in a beautifully fitted grey suit, hair windswept from being outside, eyes hidden behind his usual pair of sunglasses.

   “Stephen?”

   “Tony.” He greeted with a nod.

   For the first time Stephen noted a nervous energy to the man, and as he took off his glasses with one hand he noticed the other was gripped something black. A blush rose in Stephen’s face, recognizing his damaged phone. His eyes were concerned as he came to stand in front of Stephen, roaming over him with obvious calculation. They paused on where Stephen’s hands were resting carefully in his lap, he gritted his teeth.

   “Can I help you with something?”

   He could practically see Tony take a mental step back, a small flash of hurt running across his face. Stephen understood, this wasn’t how they usually greeted one another, they were typically smiling, a quick kiss, a gentle hug.

   “Yeah, actually. What’s wrong with you?” It was genuinely sincere, and dammit Stephen was too tired to deal with this, his hands were aching, and he just wanted to a break. Was that too much to ask?

   Stephen let out a heavy sigh, allowing himself to slump slightly. “I’m sorry, nothing. I’m fine, just having a bad day. You didn’t need to come all the way out here.”

   Confusion sprung up in his dark brown eyes and suddenly Stephen felt like he was missing something, irritation jumping up anew as he looked at the man’s puzzled face. “Stephen…” he spoke hesitantly, as though afraid of offending him, which really wasn’t too far off. “Did you read any of the texts I sent you?”

   Embarrassment mixed with his irritation making the blush return as he looked at the phone in Tony’s hand, “the first few,” he murmured.

   Tony nodded, then to the Sorcerer’s surprise he kneeled in front of him, leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Hi.” The man whispered.

   “Hi?”

   “You forgot we were meeting up for a lunch date, didn’t you?” He was smiling slightly, nothing accusing in his tone.

   Stephen could now add feeling like an idiot to the list of emotions rolling violently inside of him. He had forgotten, because he was tired, because he hurt, because he just couldn’t keep it together right now, and all he wanted overwhelmingly strong was for Tony to leave. He felt like he was going to cry and the last thing he wanted was for him to see that, he just wanted Wong’s tea, and some blissful meditation. Moisture obviously sprung up in his eyes before he could stop it because Tony’s face turned worried, brows furrowing again.

   Tony reached for his hand and all Stephen could think was _NO_. He gave a full body flinch back into the chair, felt the Cloak tighten protective around him, the edges flaring forward around his hands which he had pressed to his sides, wincing. “I’m sorry I forgot. I’ll make it up to you later, but you can leave now.” His voice was hard, controlled.

   Tony rocked back, sitting on the heels of his shoes, eyes clearly portraying shock and Stephen thought he was going to get up and leave in one of his dramatic huffs, had been expecting the man to be angry with his attitude, but instead he stayed right there starring at Stephen. He couldn’t tell if he was more angry or thankful for that, his mind already berating him for his harsh tone.

   “Stephen, sweetheart.” The unexpected nickname made him close his eyes, trying to get a hold on his tumultuous emotions. “If you really need me to go I understand, but I know you are hurting, and I would really really like the opportunity to help you.”

   Stephen cracked open his eyes, Tony was looking at him with something akin to longing that made his heart ache. But more importantly was the odd look of understanding, the way his eyes flicked to where Stephen’s hands were still being guarded by the Cloak, and he remembered.

   If anyone knew about chronic pain it was the man sitting in front of him, asking to help. Tony had been through hell and back, had gone through the trauma of the arc reactor, and even now he remembers Tony telling him in whispers that sometimes he can still feel it, forgets he ever had the surgery.

   The emotion was back, his eyes filled with moisture and he murmured a small “I’m sorry.” Tony’s face relaxed into complete relief, and he leaned forward pulling Stephen into a hug that he immediately reciprocated, finally bringing his arms around the man.

   “I’m so sorry, Tony. It’s a bad day, I’m always like this on bad days.”

   Tony pulled back and rested his forehead against his, humor had found its way back onto his face, “Good to know, love. Its perfectly alright. Let me help you.”

   “You shouldn’t have too,” Stephen couldn’t help himself, “I usually just meditate all day. It helps, and I’ll feel better tomorrow. You should head home.”

   Tony pulled further away, settling his hands on either side of his face, “Stephen, I’m probably only going to say this once so pay attention,” he paused to make sure Stephen was indeed, the Sorcerer rolled his eyes. “When I said I wanted to start something between us, that didn’t just mean dates, laughs, and sex. There is nothing I want more then to learn every side of you, I want to know everything about you, including the bad. Even on days when you are all dramatic bitchyness or angry or sad.”

   Stephen frowned at that and Tony smoothed his brow with a finger, “the last thing I want is for you to hide parts of yourself from me, like you obviously did today.” His eyes flickered to the broken phone on the floor. “Just talk to me, even if its to tell me to fuck off or that you need me to come over.”

   Stephen raised an eyebrow, but a small smile tugged on the corner of his lips, “That’s sappy.”

   Tony shrugged, “I did say I would probably only say all that once.” He glanced around then, as though searching for something. “You said something about meditation?” Of course, he would change the subject.

   Stephen nodded, his trembling hands coming to rest back in his lap gently, “Yes, but I need to wait for Wong to get back. He makes a tea that helps.”

   “Mind if I stay with you?”

   “While I meditate? That will be quite boring.”

   Tony grinned, “Maybe you can show me few pointers.”

   Instead of the intense irritation Stephen had expected to feel he only recognized an exhausted kind of fondness as he gazed down at Tony. “Fine, but it isn’t as easy as it looks.” He nodded in mock seriousness.

   And while Stephen began giving Tony instructions he realized that the ache in his fingers, though certainly present, wasn’t nearly as bad. Instead he was distracted in a different way, Tony’s humor constantly picking at his horrid mood, his face lighting up every time he managed to make Stephen smile. Slowly but certainly he began to feel more and more grateful for this man.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fairly sweet one, probably because I'm working on a long angsty rollercoaster of a fic right now. I don't know when it will be done, but until then I'll try to keep things semi-sweet unless my muse sucker punches me again ;)
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys this one. It was on my mind ever since I wrote the drabble Of Hands and Passion.


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